


Battle Scars

by RavenWillowDragomir



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mostly Linctavia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:51:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3541841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenWillowDragomir/pseuds/RavenWillowDragomir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the battle of Mount Weather and Clarke's walkout, Chancellor Griffin made a grudging treaty with the Tree People. Several miles of the forest surrounding Camp Jaha were alloted to Abby's people, and so long as they did not step foot outside of that boundary, there would be peace. But after so much time spent battling the Sky People, old habits die hard when Octavia Blake crosses into Grounder Territory. Will Clarke's return be enough to stop a new war from starting?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red Walls

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fic to get over writer's block, so please bear with me. Anyways, please leave comments, feedback, constructive criticism and any plot ideas you'd like incorporated below!

Octavia strode through the trees, her eyes watchful for signs of life. It was a stupid thing she was doing, venturing into Grounder territory by herself, but Lincoln had left all of his things back in the cave he once called home. He told her not to worry about it, but she knew it bothered him. His notebook and charcoal, scavenged watercolour pencils and handmade inks were what had kept him occupied through the years. Lincoln was a warrior stripped of his rank, and she would not allow his most prized possessions to be lost to him as well.

In hindsight, she might have thought to check for people before dropping through the ceiling latch into the cave, but at the time it seemed harmless. However she did not miss the distinctive crackle and warm orange light of a fire. As soon as her feet hit ground she was on guard, the long blade sliding from its sheath at her back into her firm grip. An abandoned home should not have a fire burning, not unless...Something smashed into her from behind, sending her flying forwards into the dirt. She rose swiftly, raising her weapon to slash at her opponent, who ducked the sword and hit her across the face so hard her head knocked against the rocky cave wall. Almost immediately she drew a knife and it flew with amazing accuracy, striking the man straight through his heart. Octavia didn’t have time to recover before strong muscular arms grabbed her from behind, hoisting her off the ground. She snarled and kicked at him as hard as she could, digging her heel into his crotch until he dropped her with a grunt. She scrambled to her feet only to be slashed across the back with a sword from a third attacker. _They’re not trying to kill me_ , was her last conscious thought as the muscular man grabbed her by the neck and threw her head first at the wall, sending her rudely into a world of darkness.

 

                                                                          *

"Lincoln!" The elder Blake yelled across camp to the man standing stoically by the gate, his back turned to the hustle and bustle of Camp Jaha. He sighed, scuffed his foot in the dirt, and jogged over to help Bellamy. Together the two men heaved a log into place and held it steady while a soot-covered Monty nailed it into place. 

"Good job boys, get to work on the roof," Kane nodded approvingly at the mostly built cabin as he passed. Bellamy wiped his forehead and nodded gratefully to Lincoln before turning to Monty.

"What happened to you?" 

"Raven and Kyle have been practicing their explosive making skills," he huffed. Bellamy grinned and put a hand on his hip, looking up at the cabin they were making. It was a large rectangular thing, made of stacked logs and boards. Monty and Raven were in the process of setting up an electrical grid to heat and light the entire city, so soon it would be their home. And that was what Camp Jaha was. Slowly the tents were being replaced with cabins of all sizes, the massive piles of scrap metal were being turned into doors, hinges and more. A crew of people was out digging a trench to bring a stream from the river to run along the outside of the fence. It had been decided that the area inside the fence would be for housing only, in order to maintain the utmost security. Several of the 100, lead by Jasper, were teaching the adults how to plant and care for crops in the large open field beyond the city. Lincoln was showing the guard how to make and hunt with arrows, in order to save bullets and not scare off other game. Everything was calm.

Ever since the Battle of Mount Weather was over, the Sky People had been put to work by their leaders. Winter on Earth was said to be cold, with scarce resources and little food. Everyone had a job to do. Perhaps most important of all was Octavia's job, which was to breach the gap between Sky People and Tree People. Although she was lost as Indra's second, she was not completely exiled as Lincoln was. Lexa agreed to speak to her and only her over terms and future arrangements, and the young soldier had accepted. She never met with Lexa without Abby's permission, and she never went for a hunt without Lincoln. Her lover had searched the entire camp and questioned Abby about her, but Octavia was nowhere to be found.

"Did they do the thing with the explosives in your mug?" Bellamy asked, pulling a few splinters from his hand. 

"Yeah, I swear I'm going to swap their water with moonshine tomorrow. Take a big gulp of that and you'll wish you'd never-"

"Have you seen Octavia?" Lincoln cut in, earning a quick look from Bellamy. 

"What, is she missing?" He turned to scan the area but saw no sign of her dark braided hair. 

"It's nothing," he said lowly, stalking off towards the gate again. He knew Octavia would kill him if she found out he had worried Bellamy for no reason. Then again, where was she? He strode up to the guard on gate duty, tapping him on the shoulder. The man jumped nearly half a foot--no one was used to seeing him or Octavia walking around like ordinary people quite yet. Even though she was one of the 100, everyone from the Ark saw her as a Grounder like him.

"Yes?" The man straightened himself, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Has Octavia Blake gone through theses gates today?" The guard looked confused, so Lincoln rolled his eyes. "The Ambassador. Has she passed today?"

"Oh, I don't know, I've only been on duty since sixteen hundred hours. You'll have to talk to Kane to figure out who was on duty this morning," he said apologetically, nodding in the direction of the previous Chancellor.

"Thank you," he said gruffly, jogging over in the direction he pointed.

"Send the kids around to Bellamy's cabin, the logs need sanding down," Marcus was giving orders to a group of Arkers when Lincoln approached. Seeing the newcomer, he dismissed the group and turned to him. "What can I do for you, Lincoln?" He said pleasantly. 

"I need to know if Octavia left Camp Jaha this morning and hasn't returned. I searched the camp and the cabin but couldn't find her." He was referring to the large house he and Octavia had built in the forest, a short ways from Camp Jaha. Although they were welcome during the day, the two didn't feel comfortable sleeping within the confines of an electric fence. Raven had promised that as soon as she got the city's electricity up and running, she would light their home too. 

"I haven't seen her myself, Stanson was on duty this morning. He's bunking in 2." There were 28 finished homes so far, and until all of them were finished, many people were crowding into the same cabins. To make things easier, they had numbered each of the cabins as they were built. Lincoln took off running again without so much as a thank you, but with Octavia's safety on the line Kane didn't really expect one from the gruff warrior. Instead he pushed the matter to the back of his head, turning to gaze out over the growing expanse of his city. Octavia was fine, and he had more important things to worry about.

  

                                                                        *

Octavia groaned. Her head throbbed and by the feel of it, blood was gushing from a wound above her temple. Slowly her vision returned to normal, but there wasn't much to see, seeing as she was blindfolded.

"Where the hell am I?" She yelled, struggling against the heavy metal shackles that bound her hands behind her back. The ground she sat on was soft, like the dirt of the forest. Her weapons were gone, all but the tiny knife hidden in her boot. It's presence was the only comfort she managed to find. Someone pulled her roughly to her feet, their grip digging into her elbow. 

"Move," a low voice grunted, shoving her forward so she nearly tripped. 

"Who are you? Where are you taking me?" She said frustratedly, knowing all too well that she wouldn't recieve an answer. The man shoved her again when she refused to move, and again she stumbled. "Let me go, we can discuss this. I swear I didn't mean to-" the warrior was cut off when a fist collided with the side of her skull, knocking her to her knees. 

"Get up," her captor spat, grabbing her arm again. Every movement caused the deep gash across her back to sear, her blood soaking through her torn bra and shirt, showing no signs of clotting. She gritted her teeth and rose, her chin held high.

They walked for what seemed like hours. Every step sent a shudder of pain through her twisted leg, but she did her best to ignore it. By the sounds around her, there were at least four Grounders in her little party. 

"You sent five to capture one little soldier?" She asked skeptically. 

"Shut up," a new voice on her left growled. Octavia rolled her eyes. Grounders weren't known for their friendliness even when they were on the same side, and this little group obviously didn't understand the meaning of 'treaty'. She turned her head to the left and right, trying to dislodge the cloth that covered her eyes, but to no avail. It was nearly dusk by the time the five of them reached their destination. Although unable to see, Octavia sensed a looming structure above them, one that she had visited many times before to say her prayers. 

"Ton DC?" She wondered aloud. Her question was answered when swift heavy footsteps stopped just in front of them, and a familiar voice said, 

"Octavia?"

"Nyko?" She felt him draw nearer, only to be stopped abbruptly by what she imagined to be a spear across his path. 

"This is not your affair, Nyko, you'll do your best to forget this encounter."

"Octavia is the Ambassador of peace between our two peoples.." Nyko began slowly. "Is this what all those soldiers are about?" Octavia heard, or rather felt him turn to look at her. "She's badly injured. She needs medical-"

"No," a woman's voice said harshly from behind her. "This does not concern you, healer. Now leave." 

"Octavia is a friend of mine, and welcome in my city, Jarlik," he replied coldly. "It is my job to treat the wounded, and that she is. Remove those bindings at once." For a minute her heart leap at the thought of freedom, but it was immediately quelshed.

"Ton DC is no longer your city, Nyko, it is mine. You have no power to resist my forces, nor the authority to command me," said Jarlik, moving around in front of her prisoner. "I suggest you get used to this new regeme, for your medical expertise are a necessity to our people." Octavia barely had time to hear the rest of the conversation, because at that moment a guard dragged her away down the path. Eventually they stopped, and metal screeched on what she assumed was a door.

One minute she was preparing to walk through the door and meet her fate, the next she was falling into a seemingly bottomless concrete cell. The man pulled away the blindfold as she fell, leaving her unadjusted and confused. She hit the floor with a jarring crunch, shoulder first, and rolled onto her back with a groan, watching the bars of her cage swing shut overhead. 

 

 _Lincoln's gonna kill me for this,_ was her last conscious thought.


	2. Chapter 2

 

_Octavia wove her way through the forest by the light of the stars, making her way towards Lincoln’s cave. Clarke and Finn were too busy sticking their tongues down each other’s throat to notice her absence, and thanks to Monty’s Moonshine Bellamy couldn’t tell the difference between his little sister and a tree. No one was going to miss her for a few hours._

_She slipped down through the trapdoor, immediately enveloped by the warmth of the hungry fire. By the warm orange glow she could see Lincoln outlined against the light, drawing on the cave walls of his home. He turned at the sound of her feet hitting soft dirt and pulled her into a kiss._

_“I missed you,” she whispered against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck and caressing the tip of the tattoo she knew was there._

_“I missed you too,” he rested his forehead against hers. There was nothing in the world but the two of them, caught for eternity in that one perfect instant. Their hearts fell into beat with each other, finding the same rhythm. They were hearts that had seen the throbbing beat of sorrow, the quickened beat of fear, and the weak beat of pain. But now they sung a new and different song, one of content, of eager love, and of unity._

_“I love you,” she gazed up through her lashes at him as the words tumbled from her lips for the first time. Her whole short life had been spent hiding fearfully in the shadows. No one could be trusted with the secret that was the existence of Octavia Blake. Caution was what kept you alive, and yet she trusted him completely, this Grounder who had saved her countless times. He was the one, she knew._

_His strong hands wrapped around her waist and he leaned down to kiss her, capturing her mouth with his. As they did Lincoln turned them slowly until her back was against the warm rock wall. Electricity lit her body as he slowly moved his kisses down her neck to ghost her collarbone with his lips, calloused fingers exploring the hem of her shirt. The Sky Girl knew he was being gentle with her first time, but all she wanted was to feel his body, know every inch of his skin and how it felt on hers._

_Suddenly she took a step forward until she was flush against him, leaning up on her toes and kissing him deeply. Instinctively he tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her shirt up with one hand. They broke apart only to let the cloth fall to the ground and then he hoisted her up onto his hips, locking lips again. She wrapped her legs around his waist as the Grounder ran his hands up her bare back, sending tingles down her spine. In a whirl he had lowered them onto a soft fur rug and was hovering above her._

_“Octavia?” He paused, searching her eyes for an answer._

_“Sha,” she whispered in Trigedasleng._

  
_*_

Octavia woke to the same sound she had fallen to--the clang of metal above her. She opened her eyes and slowly adjusted to the darkness. The stars were still out, but a large shadow was blocking most of them out.

“Octavia?”

“Nyko?” She pushed herself up on one elbow, groaning. The deep wound from her right shoulder to her left hip was on fire.

“Shhh. There’s a guard at the door and I can’t get in this way. Jarlik won’t allow me in to treat your wounds—it’s a war tactic.”

“Who is this woman? Why is she taking over Ton DC?” Nyko shook his head from above.

“Jarlik is the River People’s leader. I don’t know why she’s here or why she’s taken you, no. Her soldiers came a few days ago. After the missile we aren’t prepared to defend against them, which must be why they targeted this city.” Octavia sat all the way up and grabbed her left shoulder.

“Nyko, I think I dislocated my shoulder when I fell,” she whispered.

“I saw the wound in your back, is there anything else?”

“No. I twisted my ankle, but it’s fine.” The healer nodded swiftly.

“I’m going to ride to Camp Jaha and tell Lincoln what’s happened. Then I’ll go to the Commander. If this is an act of war, she must know about it.”

“Nyko, take him with you to tell Lexa. If he comes here he’ll just get himself killed. Promise me you’ll keep him safe,” she said fiercely.

“Octavia…” The Grounder began.

“Swear it!” She hissed.

“I swear,” he dipped his head in consent. “Use your jacket to make a sling for your arm—there’s nothing you can do until we come for you. When the sun comes up, stay in the shade. Save your energy and don’t do anything to reopen the wound in your back. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Go.” With that he stood, gave her one last look, and departed, leaving her to her thoughts.

                                                                                                       *

Nyko arrived outside Camp Jaha at dawn, his horse breathing heavily in the brisk morning air. He dismounted and approached the gate. The guard on duty eyed him warily as Lincoln jumped to his feet. He had been waiting anxiously at the fence all night for Octavia’s return. After a quick exchange, the guard pressed a few buttons and the door swung open. The healer led his horse inside, handed the reigns to the bewildered guard, and grabbed Lincoln’s arm, leading him away from the exit.

“It is good to see you old friend, but I’m not here to visit. Octavia is being held captive in Ton DC by Jarlik and her people.”

“What?” Lincoln immediately turned back towards the gate as if to leave, but his friend’s grip on his arm was strong.

“You can’t go after her, don’t be a fool.”

“Is she hurt? I’m going after her, she’s--” Nyko cut in.

“She’s alive. But you barging in there by yourself won’t do her any good, my friend. She made me promise to take you with me to see the Commander. If the River People are going after the Ambassador of peace between our peoples, it will be taken as an act of war.” Lincoln ground his teeth but nodded in understanding.

“Let’s go,” Lincoln said. Nyko looked around. It was too early for anyone to be awake, so the camp was quiet and peaceful, unlike the rowdy daylight hours.

“Her brother, Clarke’s second. We should tell him where we’re going.”

“Bellamy,” the warrior started off towards the ever growing group of cabins, the healer hot on his heels. They reached Cabin 4 and without knocking, burst through the front door. Inside 16 groggy young adults sat up from their makeshift beds on the floor. They had all come down in the shuttle with Bellamy, who rose from his blanket wearing only boxers and a confused expression.

“What’s going on?” He mumbled, combing a hand through his hair.

“Come outside for a minute, we need to talk,” Lincoln muttered, glancing around at the curious eyes all focused on him.

“Go back to sleep,” Bellamy instructed, pulling a shirt over his head and following the two men outside.

“Ton DC has been taken by Jarlik, the leader of the River People,” Nyko said. “They’re holding your sister captive.” Bellamy stiffened and glanced at Lincoln.

“What? How did they…”

“I’m not sure where they found her, but a group of them brought Octavia in shortly after dusk,” he explained. “I stopped them when they were coming in, but they wouldn’t let me treat her wounds.”

“She was injured? Sons of bitches hurt my little sister, I’m gonna kill them,” he tried to push past them but Lincoln grabbed his arm and shook him, hard.

“Hey, getting yourself killed isn’t going to do anyone any good,” he said darkly. “You need to come with us to find Lexa at the Capital. Going after your sister is targeting the treaty, something Heda won’t stand for.” Bellamy bit his lip but nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“We’ll meet at Lincoln’s cabin in half an hour,” he said, before disappearing back inside.

                                                                                                       *

Raven was startled awake when Bellamy switched on a lamp in her previously pitch dark tent. Beside her Wick groaned, holding a hand up to shield his eyes.

“Bellamy, what the hell?” She muttered, sitting up and checking her watch through squinted eyes. “It’s not even o-five hundred yet.” The intruder knelt down next to her.

“I’m leaving for the Capital with Lincoln and Nyko and I had to tell someone where I was going.” She sat up, staring at him.

“Why would you go to the Capital? Why is Nyko here? Bellamy, what’s going on?” Wick was rubbing his eyes furiously, his hair sticking up oddly.  

“I don’t have a ton of time, but the River People are trying to start a war by capturing my little sister and they’ve taken Ton DC,” he explained quickly. “Nyko came from there to get us to go find Lexa to stop a war from breaking out.”

“Wait, Octavia’s in Ton DC being held captive?” She shook herself. “Never mind, but what the hell do you want me to do about it?” Bellamy shook his head, turning out the light and making his way towards the exit.

“Just explain everything to Abby later today, and keep everything here under control, okay? I’m trusting you to make these idiots understand.” With that, he was gone.

“Understand?” She yelled after him. “How do I do that when I don’t even understand it myself? Bellamy!” But he was already gone. Raven turned to Kyle, who looked confused.

“Who’s Nyko?” He asked.

“You’re hopeless,” she huffed, turning on her side to face away from him. Wick slung an arm over her and laid back down as well. Within minutes his breathing had evened out and the engineer was sleeping, his warm body pressed against hers. Raven sighed, closed her eyes, and soon she too was sound asleep.

 

                                                                                                       *


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm sorry this one took so long to post. I have a little Trigedasleng in here and it's not very well known, so it was hard to find. Please comment if you think Trigedasleng is worth it and adds to the reading experience for you, or not worth it.
> 
> Also, comment if you'd like more description of Camp Jaha and other things in the writing. It's mostly been about plot, and I assure you I can write details, just not sure if they're desired. :)
> 
> Happy reading!

The little trio traveled from dawn until dusk that day, but when nightfall came they had to stop and set up camp for the night. Their horses were exhausted and so were they, though none were ready to admit it. They had made good time and Nyko assured them that they would arrive by twelve hundred hours the next day. It was better to ride upon the Capital during the daytime anyway, to avoid startling the lookouts. Bellamy built a fire and Lincoln disappeared into the woods, returning shortly with a rabbit, which he skinned and skewered over the fire.

“How do you think she is?” Bellamy stared into the flames broodily as their dinner cooked. He was seated on a fallen log next to the healer while Lincoln paced back and forth, a dark expression clouding his features.

“She will be fine,” Nyko assured him.

“Don’t give me that shit, I’ve seen what your people can do. Remember John Murphy?” He ran his fingers through his hair angrily.

“Octavia does not have information, she is merely being held as a way to anger your people and start a feud,” he explained carefully.

“And you can honestly say you don’t think your people would torture her just to prove a point?” He glared at the Grounder, who looked away. “That’s what I thought,” he spat.

“They aren’t my people, Blake, they took my city by force,” Nyko said, trying to control his temper. “And if you wish to speak of brutality, remember the massacre at the hands of one of your own.” The elder Blake opened his mouth, but Nyko continued. “I watched your friend shoot down my wife and child along with sixteen of my people without blinking an eye.”

“This isn’t a competition,” Lincoln cut in, not looking at either of them as he continued to pace like a caged animal. “Both peoples have committed unspeakable evils. We’re not here to argue about that, we’re here about Octavia. Put aside your petty differences and look at the bigger picture,” he growled. The silence echoed uncomfortably in the wake of his words, never ending. The three men stared at each other as the noiselessness reverberated off the trees and filled their ears with dead air.

“I think that might be the most you’ve ever said in one go,” Bellamy said finally.

    

                                                 *

Octavia was curled in the shadowy corner of her cell when the door clanged open. Immediately she was on guard, fingers twitching to reveal her hidden blade. She had done as Nyko instructed, using her jacket as a sling for her arm. The girl hadn’t moved all day, instead remaining quietly in her corner. The healer was right--there was no point in using all of her remaining energy trying to find a way out that was not there. Besides, even if she did manage to make it out of her cell, there were too many and she was practically defenseless. Her attackers hadn’t given her food or water, but that was to be expected. The weaker the captive, the better.

She looked up to see a dark skinned woman with dreadlocks hanging to her shoulders strut in, flanked by glowering guards. She knew right away that this must be Jarlik, leader of the River People.

“Octavia Blake,” she snarled.

“Yes?” Octavia answered, words dripping with disdain. She rested her head against the wall and fought the urge to stand up and punch the woman in the face.

“Get up,” Jarlik said. Her prisoner shook her head and closed her eyes in a bored manner. The commander nodded to her men, who grabbed the prisoner roughly and pulled her to her feet. “Komba raun [come],” she barked, striding out of the cell. Her men dragged Octavia after her and up the cold stone steps into the blinding light of day. People she recognized from the missile attack were huddled under awnings or peeking through windows, looking confused and even scared. The tall dark soldiers of the River People outnumbered them by far, filling the narrow streets and crowding around the great statue to watch the scene unfold. Her captors brought her to the center of the city, the sunken area where the missile had landed. A giant wooden pole was erected there, similar to the one Finn had been tied to at his death.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she breathed as they bound her with thick ropes to the log, removing her ‘sling’ in the process. “I haven’t done anything to you. I’m working with you. What have I done to deserve this?”

Jarlik stood facing her, arms crossed. “Octeivia kom Skaikru [Octavia of the Sky People],” she announced, receiving cheers from her warriors. “Honon kom Rikaru [Prisoner of the River People],” she began, projecting her voice to all the onlookers. Octavia struggled against the bindings, unable to budge even an inch. The rough bark scratched painfully at the newly scabbed wound on her back and the ropes rubbed her bare arms raw. “Skaikru have committed terrible evils against our people, evils Heda is wrongfully forgiving.” Her soldiers cheered again, and Octavia was reminded that a few of their people had been in Ton DC when Finn went crazy, as well when the missile landed.

“Look, Jarlik, the Skaikru have payed for our crimes. Finn was executed for his wrongdoings. The Maunon [Mountain Men] sent that missile, not us. Our mistakes have been-”

“Nou mou [enough],” the leader interrupted her. “Your leader, Clarke, will come for you. When she does she will die, and my people will have the war they desire,” she smiled.

“You know about Clarke?” She and Lincoln were the only people who knew their long lost leader Clarke’s location--in the Capital, with none other than Lexa herself. The blonde had only been wandering in the forest for a few hours when Lexa and her quarry rode up behind her on horses and convinced her to accompany them. Clarke had gone reluctantly, but after a few days she settled in as the Commander’s second hand woman, staying by her side night and day. She planned on returning to Camp Jaha once they had constructed a more specific treaty, and after the Sky people had time to heal from the Grounder’s betrayal. She knew Clarke would come running to Ton DC, and only hoped the others wouldn’t be stupid enough to let her.

“Of course I know,” Jarlik hissed. “There are many Rikaru in the capital to spy on your precious leader.” The woman approached, pulling a blade from her sleeve. “Now I can not give you the traditional thauz kodon [thousand cuts], we need you alive.” She ran the edge of the blade over Octavia’s cheek. “But I think Clarke might need a little incentive to come pay me a visit...” the blade flashed and blood spattered the dirt.

                                             *

Raven opened the flap of her tent, ducking down to fit inside. Wick was curled on his side on the sleeping mat, blanket pulled tightly around him.

“Wick, what are you doing? We have work to do, remember? It’s thirteen hundred hours already,” she said, putting a hand on her hip.

“Shhh,” the man groaned, rolling over to look up at her. “My head is killing me.” She stepped closer and sat down next to him, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Fine, but you’re working late tonight to fix the electrical grid sketches. It’s still shorting out.” Kyle moved over to rest his head in her lap.

“Will do, chief,” he murmured with only a hint of sarcasm. She took his head in her hands and massaged his scalp absently, earning a sigh.

“I’m going to have to clean up this whole Octavia mess,” she muttered, thinking out loud.

“You haven’t told anyone yet?”

“I can’t figure out how to put it that they won’t go running off to rescue her. Bellamy trusted me to stop them from doing that, and Nyko says it’s a bad idea. If Lincoln could get on board with pausing the rescue mission, It’s got to be the right thing to do.” He opened his eyes to look up at her.

“You haven’t said anything yet?” He said incredulously, earning an eyeroll.

“I was trying to give them the biggest head start I could manage, okay?” She stroked a hand through his hair and rested his head on the pillow, standing up. “I’m going to go talk to Kane. You get some sleep now, it’s going to be a long night.” And with that, Raven exited the tent.

The mechanic made her way up the newly built metal steps to enter the Head Quarters. Through the entrance a hallway curved off to each side with the door to a large round room in front of her. Down the hallway to the right was Engineering, and to her left was the Control Center, though they planned to move it too a large cabin soon. The round room in front of her was previously the Ark Meeting Room, but it was slowly being transformed into Abby’s Sick Bay, seeing as it was closest in case of emergency. Raven took off down the left hallway, noting that every day more of the metal panels of the walls were being shined to their previous glory. The hanging electrical wires and singed metal were being repaired by a crew of mechanics while she dealt with the more complicated mechanisms. Although a large part of the Ark had fallen out of the sky, no one wanted to live in it. Instead they were slowly tearing out metal and scraps to make other things, like roofs and tables and chairs. It was decided that the only piece of the Ark to remain was the circular building in the middle of camp that held Engineering, Sick Bay, and temporarily the Control Center. Even the prominent arch that was once part of the Ark’s outermost circle was being torn down. Sometimes things must end for a new era to begin.

Raven entered the Control Center, admiring the automatic doors she had fixed. She had only been in there once, and it had been several weeks ago, so she wasn’t all too surprised to find a giant rectangular table in the center of the room. As she came in she noticed that a giant piece of paper covered the metal.

“Raven,” Kane turned to look up at her, taking in her appearance. “What are you doing here?” She approached slowly, examining the vague map.

“Are you trying to map this entire area?” She asked, completely forgetting why she had come. A red fenced in square seemed to indicate Camp Jaha, but the rest of the details were fuzzy, drawn in pencil.

“Yes. I’d hoped to send out scouts already, but it’s all hands on deck getting these houses done before winter.” Raven rested her elbow on the map, pointing to a spot.

“A river runs here from this waterfall, though I’ve been told Octavia nearly got killed by something in the pool under the fall. It’s clean water.” The man handed her a pencil and watched her draw an estimate of the river. “Speaking of Octavia…” she cleared her throat. “She’s been kidnapped.”

“What?” Kane exclaimed, confused.

“Look, Nyko says that the River People invaded his city and took Octavia captive there. Nyko came and took Lincoln and Bellamy to the Capitol to tell Lexa, because it’s seen as an act of war.” Kane held up a finger to wait and rubbed his eyes.

“So they left without telling anyone…”

“They told me,” Raven put in.

“And they want me to trust that Lexa, who has betrayed us before, will rescue our person, and side with us against her own kin?”

“Lexa made a decision to save her people. I don’t like it, but you would do the same thing in her position and we both know it. Plus, this alliance is as important to her as it is to us. I’m not asking you to do nothing, I’m asking you to wait to do something until they’ve returned.” She took a breath. “Please, Kane. If going to Lexa wasn’t very important, Nyko wouldn’t have been able to convince the two people that love Octavia most to leave her there alone. If you don’t think Nyko and Lexa have her best interests at heart, trust that Lincoln and Bellamy do.” The old Chancellor massaged his temples, looking very tired.

“Alright Reyes, I’ll get Abby on board.” He stood. “You better hope they’re right about this one. That girl is all that’s standing between us and war.” And with that, he was gone.

                                              *

**  
  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry this update took so long. I've been transitioning out of the hospital and back home, everything's been really busy. I'll try to update more regularly. Please review!

CHAPTER 4

Octavia moaned. Every fiber of her being was on fire. She barely registered the fact that she was standing, that thick ropes tying her to a pole were the only things supporting her weight. Slowly, cautiously she opened her eyes. It was dark again. Night had fallen, thankfully, to take away the heat of the sun. There was blood on the ground. Was all of that hers? She felt bad enough, it must be. Where is it coming from? She knew her back was injured, she could feel the rough splinters of the wood digging into her already tender flesh. But that wasn’t the source of the blood. Her face hurt. Her arms hurt. She looked to the right. Blood. There was a wound running from her shoulder to her palm. Dried blood caked her skin. She looked to her left. Same thing, why did it hurt more? Oh yes, dislocated shoulder. Her face must be cut up too. She licked her lips experimentally. Yes, that was definitely the metallic tang of blood. She could feel a breeze blowing pleasantly against her fiery skin…wait, that wasn’t right. She was wearing a shirt, wasn’t she? The warrior looked down. She was wearing the same old sports bra she had been, but her shirt was gone. In its place were more knife wounds littering her abdomen and sides.

“Ow,” she said quietly, pulling at her bonds. Her left arm hurt too much to struggle against them, so she relaxed and let the ropes support her weight. They were thick. If only she had a knife…no matter, Lincoln says not to dwell on what we cannot change. Speaking of which, why was she here? Octavia’s head hurt. Where was Lincoln? Images and flashes of words were assaulting her mind, but they made no sense to her. She was in Ton DC. She was being held prisoner by Jarlik and the River people. She hurt, that much Octavia was aware of. Glancing up, she noticed a woman watching her from the shadows of a building. She knew her, had helped her and commanded her when Ton DC was attacked. What was her name? Hekna, that’s right. Hekna was eyeing an armed man warily, but his back was turned. “Hekna,” she coughed. Her throat hurt. Slowly, cautiously the young warrior approached.

“Octavia,” she put a hand to her face. “You have fever.” She nodded.

“Yes.”

“Nyko has gone to see Heda, she will come for you.” Her eyes kept lighting upon the man. Must be a guard. “We have been warned not to help you. Jarlik wishes for your people to see you as you are.” It made sense. “They will not let you die. Not until they have what they want.”

“Very…reassuring.” Her mouth tasted like chalk. Hekna moved to block her from view of the guard and raised a flask to her lips. A few precious drops of water dribbled down her throat. She hid it quickly when the guard’s gaze circled back their way. “Thank you,” she croaked, licking the last of the moisture from her lips.

“I am sorry I cannot do more. If I was to be caught it would mean my death.” Octavia nodded slowly. She didn’t want anyone to die for her.

“I understand. Thank you.” She watched the woman disappear back into the shadows again and closed her eyes, wondering if she would be able to sleep through the pain. After several minutes she realized with displeasure that she could not. Please hurry, Lincoln, she thought, bowing her head.

 

                                        *

The three men arrived in Ton DC the afternoon of the next day. They were greeted by the guard, who was none too pleased to see Bellamy or Lincoln, but they were allowed through. Lexa had her own tent in the center of the city. It was more like a marque, large and spacious with thick walls. You could stack two Lincoln’s on top of each other and they wouldn’t have to bend to be inside. Clarke’s blonde mane appeared, shortly followed by her face and the Heda herself.

“Bellamy?” The man’s jaw dropped open and he swept her up in his arms, nearly squeezing the life out of her before finally setting her back on her feet. She looked a little dazed.

“What is this traitor doing here?” Lexa’s time with Clarke obviously hadn’t made her any softer. Gritting his teeth, Lincoln knelt before her, a sign of submission.

“Octavia has been taken hostage by the River People.”

“What?!” Clarke yelped.

“They came days ago and took Ton DC,” Nyko added. “Then they brought Octavia, injured, and locked her in a cell. I rode to Camp Jaha and we came directly to you, Heda.”

Clarke looked at Lexa.

“We have to go help her.” The leader ignored her, pacing angrily in the dirt.

“This is an act of war,” she hissed, eyes flashing dangerously.

“Yes.”

“I can not allow it.” The men’s barely contained anger was palpable, but it was clear that their leader had to get their on her own. She was barely listening to those around her.

“Yes.”

“We will ride for Ton DC. Jarlik must not be allowed to move against me. Not now, not with the treaty so fragile as it is.” Clarke breathed a sigh of relief and nodded, hastily instructing the waiting guards. Lexa made some sort of angry gesture and stormed off to her tent, disappearing inside. Lincoln rose.

“She’s just angry,” Clarke said. “Things have been iffy at best between the Grounders, this isn’t going to do any good.” She turned to Nyko. “We can bring medicine with us, come with me.” She lead him into a nearby tent, which turned out to be a medical tent. The travellers followed her inside. “What were her wounds?” The blonde picked up her old backpack and laid it on a table, looking expectantly at the healer.

“There was a deep knife wound across her back, from what I could see in the dark it extended from one shoulder to the opposite hip.” Clarke was stuffing some clean bandages into the bag. They weren’t the sterile white gauze bandages she had grown accustomed to on the Ark, but they were clean and they worked. She also packed several vials of the Grounder medicine she had grown accustomed to. “Her head was injured, but not badly enough to impair her vision or speech. Her left shoulder was dislocated.” A few more items entered the bag and she zipped it up.

“It’s going to be a long haul with half an army marching with us,” she warned. “You should get some food, we’ll be leaving soon.” She lead them out of the tent and snapped something at a nearby guard, who motioned for them to follow. “He’ll take you to get food. I need to go see Lexa.” Bellamy grabbed her arm and the nearby guards twitched, half raising their weapons.

“Are you back?” She turned to examine him with that crystal blue gaze.

“What choice do we have?” And then she had vanished back inside the tent, leaving them to their own devices.

                                         *

Clarke wrapped her arms around the Commander’s waist from behind and rested her chin on Lexa’s shoulder. She was tense, more so than usual.

“Jarlik and her people were strong believers that the Sky People must be eliminated.” The slim woman paused in her work of throwing clothes into a bag to inhale deeply. “They believed your people to be a plague.” Clarke kissed her neck gently and released her, stepping around to help her pack. The sooner they moved out, the sooner they would be able to rescue Octavia.

“We’ll make them understand.”

“Jarlik would rather die than give in.” Clarke raised an eyebrow.

“Then she will die.” Heda inclined her head, but her dark expression did not fade and she continued to toss articles of clothing with undeserved anger. Most of the items belonged to Clarke, as Lexa prefered to wear her armour, in varying degrees of density. Some days it would be simply chain mail, the next full body plates. The Sky Person had noticed that lighter armour seemed to find the woman in a better mood. Today she was wearing about as much metal as she could while still having maneuverability, so Clarke knew not to anger her.

“Do you intend to reason with Jarlik?” Clarke was changing into her thicker jacket. They would ride long into the night, where the cold seeped into her bones.

“Perhaps.”

“What if she has tortured Octavia?” It was a possibility she didn’t even want to think of. The woman was strong, but the Grounders were vicious when angered.

“Octavia Blake is very important to this union of our peoples. I will not endanger it for the sake of a traitor,” she hissed angrily. Clarke sighed and came around to face Lexa, putting her hands on either side of her thin face. She ran her thumbs over the streaks of war paint that ran down her pale cheeks from the dark mask around her eyes. “Clarke.” The woman stiffened beneath her touch. In that moment she didn’t know if the affection would be taken or pushed away.

“Yes?”

“Kiss me,” she whispered. The blonde complied, leaning forwards and pressing her lips to Lexa’s. The Commander’s hands went to her hips and she pulled her forwards, closer, kissing her harder. Her hands slid around to the nape of her neck and tangled in her lover’s dark hair, biting her bottom lip lightly. Eventually Lexa withdrew, and when she did there was a certain softness to her features that hadn’t been there before. They rested their foreheads against each other for a few seconds, the cold metal disk on Heda’s forehead pressing into Clarke’s skin. “Thank you.” Clarke pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and picked up the bags, exiting the tent. She handed them to a guard and instructed him to ready their steeds. Much of the army would be on foot, but they would ride on horseback.

The man nodded and departed. Bellamy moved over, obviously lying in wait for her.

“You’ll come back?”

“It’s complicated, Bellamy.” She sighed. Clarke knew she had to return to Camp Jaha at some point, and that her leadership and presence could definitely help with the fragile treaty between their peoples. On the other hand, she didn’t know if she was ready to face them, the people she’d saved at such great cost to others. “I will, I just don’t know if now is the right time.”

“Clarke…” he was cut short by the sudden appearance of Lexa, who rested a hand on his friend’s waist.

“We ride.” If his sister’s life hadn’t hung in the balance, he would have had a million questions. He would have asked why things were complicated, why she hadn’t told him she was safe in the Capital, or maybe why the Commander of the Grounders leaned in to kiss her seconds later. As it was, he followed the flow of soldiers out to where their horses, Lincoln and Nyko waited. The slim leader mounted her horse and addressed her people in their native tongue. He made out key words such as ‘blood’, ‘war’, and ‘treaty’, but knew so little Trigedasleng that he was kept in the dark. Lincoln showed no sign that what she said had any ill effect for Octavia, so he decided not to push for further details.

“Kom wor! [To war.]”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't posted and that this chapter is short. If anyone wants to motivate me to churn these chapters out faster, feel free to comment.

CHAPTER 5

Octavia didn't know how long she had hung there. The sun had gone down and risen at least twice since Jarlik had bound her to pole. Henka had been right, a guard had given her water to keep her from dying, but no food was provided. She knew the longer she stayed there, the worse the infection was getting and the weaker she became. Passing River People had been poking and prodding and hitting her all day until she felt hot tears stream down her lacerated cheeks, partially brought on by heat stroke. She lapped them up, hungry for any moisture she could get. Her eyes wandered to the treeline again and she nearly shrieked when she spotted Lincoln hidden in the trees among a group of Grounder warriors. They had grips on his arms and he seemed to be straining forward towards her, trying to get to her.

'No,' she mouthed, salty tears streaking through the caked blood on her face. She wanted to fall into his arms and cry, but if he ran to her now he would only get himself killed. She lowered her head back down to her chest and closed her eyes. Rescue would come soon, she knew. Octavia only had to hold on for a little while longer.

                

                       *

Lincoln was practically dragged back to where the army had set up camp. He was furious that guards had been sent to make sure he didn't do anything stupid, but some tiny part of him knew that charging down there to get her would only result in his death. Bellamy, Nyko, Clarke, Lexa and Indra were all waiting impatiently when he returned. They had been traveling for days without rest and everyone was on edge.

"They tortured her." Bellamy looked as if he might try to make a break for it as Lincoln had done, but the guards glared at him threateningly. Clarke put a hand on the young man's arm and he saw Lexa twitch with displeasure-the Commander had always been possessive with her lovers.

"Go back to Camp Jaha."

"Like hell."

"She needs Abby," Lincoln said hoarsely. "The most you can do to help Octavia is to bring Doctor Griffin here. Tell her she's lost a lot of blood and is dehydrated." Bellamy held eye contact with Lincoln for a few seconds.

"You'll get her out of there alive."

"Yes."

"I don't care what you have to do." Lincoln's eyes darkened dangerously.

"They will die." Bellamy turned to Lexa.

"Kill them all." Before Indra had a chance to snarl at him for giving orders to their leader he was striding over to his horse. Through their treaty with the Grounders the Sky People had learned how to tame wild horses and ride them, so he mounted with ease and rode off at a gallop. Lexa turned to Indra.

"We attack once the warriors are ready. Kill them all but bring me Jarlik alive."

"What of Lincoln?" It had taken Indra days to stop calling him foul words in Trigedasleng.

"He will extract Okteivia. Tell your men to guard him with their lives." Her second inclined her head and headed off to spread the word. Lincoln’s muscles were jumping with anticipation by the time the soldiers were ready, which took a while. Clarke was with Lexa, but the two were not to go into battle. Their soldiers far outnumbered the River People, and there was no reason to risk the Commander’s life. They watched from a distance, using Clarke’s binoculars to observe Heda’s soldiers creeping through the trees, readying their weapons. Archers scaled the trunks quickly and took position in the treetops. Indra gave the order and arrows flew fast and true, striking the heads, hearts and chests of the enemy soldiers. As the archers continued to rain arrows down upon the enemy, ground troops jumped out of the forest, swords clashing with those of the River People, who were streaming from buildings. The occupants of Ton DC hid in the alleys, unable to fight without weapons.

Lincoln crept across the battlefield, flanked by several soldiers who whacked and chopped any and all resistance away. He made a beeline for Octavia, who hung limply from her ropes, barely able to keep her head up enough to watch the action. An arrow whistled past, narrowly missing Lincoln’s head, and he turned to see an enemy archer taking aim again. Before he could knock an arrow Indra came hurtling into him, knocking the man down. The two rolled down the incline, engaged in a furious wrestling match for power. Lincoln turned and jogged she short distance to the prisoner.

“Octavia,” he whispered, sawing quickly through the ropes binding her with a small dagger. She fell forward and he caught her quickly, earning a hiss of pain. His strong arms wrapped around her and lifted her into the air, one hand sliding under her knees and the other wrapping around her back.

“Lincoln…” He kissed her forehead despite the blood.

“Shh,” was all he said, turning quickly to run all the way back up the slope, the circle of guards charging with him. Lincoln didn’t slow down when they reached the safety of the trees but kept running in the direction of the clearing where he knew Clarke and Lexa waited. Octavia’s head had fallen against him, her ear pressed to his chest to hear the steady thump of his heart.

                                         *

Indra tumbled down the hill and landed underneath the other soldier. She wasted no time in throwing him from her, slamming his head into the ground and slitting his throat. She looked around, at all her warriors fighting. Few of her people had fallen to such a small number of River People, but still the enemy fought back. Her eyes sought Jarlik. The woman was probably cowering, Indra thought smugly, moving swiftly through the moving bodies towards the center of Ton DC where Octavia had been tortured. Sure enough Jarlik was there, surrounded by a circle of her kin. The women had always been one of the more cowardice leaders, which made it easier to hate her. Indra would not question Heda’s decision to side with the Sky People. Not now, not in battle. She charged forwards, swinging her blade towards the first man. He blocked her blow but didn’t see the dagger until it was too late--his eyes widened and he sunk to his knees. She turned to see a woman charging at her, but seconds later an arrow had buried itself in her skull. Another of Heda’s warriors attacked the other guard, leaving Jarlik undefended.

“Traitor.” The other woman tilted her chin up defiantly.

“You will not kill me. I am of your people.” Indra’s eyes flashed.

“No. I won’t kill you.” Jarlik’s mouth turned up in a smile. And then a metal-clad forearm hit her over the head and she crumpled to the ground at Indra’s feet. “But Heda will.”

**  
***


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please R&R! 
> 
> I'm going to be without wifi for four weeks, but I promise as soon as I return I'll start working on the next chapter.

CHAPTER 6

Lincoln laid Octavia gently on the bed that Abby and Clarke had prepared for her. Bellamy pressed forwards, trying to get closer to her, but Clarke held him back.

“Bell, you need to leave.”

“What? No way. I’m staying.”

“We need to undress her to clean her wounds,” she said gently. “You’re her brother.” Bellamy scowled at her and glanced over her shoulder at his little sister. On one hand, he didn’t want to let her out of his sight, but on the other, he knew he shouldn’t be there. His eyes met Lincoln’s dark ones.

“You tell me if anything happens.” The taller man inclined his head. No one tried to force him out of the tent, and Bellamy liked having someone in there to watch the healer’s every move more than he disliked imagining Lincoln in there with his unclothed little sister. Not that he didn’t approve of their relationship, or respect Lincoln, but she would always be his little sister.

Inside Clarke carefully cut away the shredded material that was Octavia’s shirt while Abby ever so carefully slid her jeans off. Pieces of the cloth were dried into her wounds, making it difficult to remove. Lincoln helped by dipping a rag into warm water and using it to soften the cloth and the blood.

“Her back,” he said quietly. He helped roll her over so they could see the infected gash. Abby laid her patient on her side with Lincoln supporting her so she could start cleaning her back carefully as Lincoln fumbled through Nyko’s satchel. “Here. To drink, for the infection,” he handed a small vile of yellow liquid to Clarke.

“How much?”

“Three drops, mixed with water.”

“Lincoln..” Octavia’s eyes fluttered and he leaned down to her.

“You’re okay.”

“It hurts,” she said quietly, a slight quiver in her voice.

“Hey Octavia, I know it hurts, but I’m going to need to do quite a few stitches here,” Abby said, scrubbing her hands vigorously. “I don’t suppose you have anything for pain in that bag of yours?”

“We do not believe in ‘painkillers.’” Lincoln helped Octavia sit up. Clarke handed him the cup with the Grounder medicine in it. “Drink. Try to drink all of it.” He held the cup to her lips and tilted some of the liquid into her open mouth. She gagged but managed to swallow one sip at a time of the foul concoction until the mug was empty.

“My arm. I can’t move it.”

“I know,” Clarke said reassuringly, coming around the bed to sit by Lincoln in front of her. “Your shoulder is dislocated. I can pop it back in, but…” the girl set her jaw defiantly.

“Do it.” The healer laid gentle hands on her shoulder and arm, gripped tightly, twisted and pushed her arm back into place with a sharp snap. Octavia barely managed to keep from crying out in pain, burying her face in Lincoln’s chest. He brought a hand up to the back of her neck and stroked her hair gently.

“Octavia, we have a bath prepared for you, that’s the best way to clean out all the dirt and blood. We can stay and help you or Lincoln can.”

“Lincoln.” Her voice was muffled by his shoulder. Clarke nodded and turned her attention to the man.

“You need to scrub each wound carefully. We’ll wait outside until you’re done.” He nodded to show he understood and waited until Abby and Clarke had filed out of the large tent to pull away.

“Here,” he said quietly, removing her bra, trying hard not to hurt her injured shoulder. He helped her with her underwear and carried her over to the tub. The water was scalding from the fire lit beneath, but Octavia did not complain as he lowered her in. Lincoln picked up a rag and dipped it in the water, running it over the long gash on her arm. As he worked her blood stained the water pink. After a while he emptied the tub and replaced it with fresh water.

“I’m thirsty,” she said suddenly, her eyes opening, more alert than they had been before but still pained. He quickly rose and filled a cup with cold water from the pitcher, bringing it back to her. She pulled her knees up to her chest and took the mug in her good hand. As she drank Lincoln undid her hair and carefully untangled it, scooping water to pour over it. He loved her hair, loved how it felt like silk beneath his fingertips and how it swayed with her step.

“Why were you in the forest?” He asked quietly, running more water over her shoulders. By now he had washed all the dirt and blood away, but he couldn’t stand to sit still and look at the angry red gashes marring her skin.

“I was going back for your drawings,” she admitted, avoiding his gaze.

“I told you they’re not important.”

“They make you happy.”

“You make me happy.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “And I need you alive.” He lifted her out of the tub and grabbed a large soft cloth, rubbing her dry. She hissed every time the material moved over one of her open wounds and her legs shook so much she could barely stand on her own.

Lincoln went outside to retrieve Clarke and Abby.

“I gave her a dose of sleeping medicine so she could rest. She won’t wake for several hours.” The women nodded and went back inside, leaving him standing there with Bellamy.

“How is she?”

“She will recover.” The brother looked like he was about to be sick, but Lincoln caught his gaze. “Every warrior has scars, Bellamy. We survive.” This seemed to calm the other man down. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“I’m going back to our cabin to retrieve clothes for Octavia.” Bellamy glanced at the tent, his reluctance obvious. “We will be back before she wakes.” They set off towards the camp, moving quickly. They were close enough that horses weren't necessary.

They didn't talk much as they walked, but when they entered the cabin and Lincoln lit a lamp Bellamy couldn't restrain himself. "You did all these?" He motioned to the drawings etched in the wood. Lincoln inclined his head and picked up a bag, setting it on the bed.

"What is all this stuff?" He walked over to the shelf of bottles.

"Antidotes. Poisons. Medicines." Lincoln opened a wooden dresser and stuffed a few articles of clothing into the bag before moving over to the little table beside the bed.

"Your home is pretty nice."

"Octavia built the furniture."

"She has always known what she wants," Bellamy admitted, watching the other man put a jar in the bag. "What is that?"

"Perfume." He hadn't ever thought to ask his little sister why she always smelled of flowers. He knew a lot of women would die for Lincoln's recipe for perfume, but he had a feeling it was private between the two of them. Along with that Lincoln packed a few other items, but Bellamy was no longer paying attention. He had turned to examine the etchings on the walls. There were mountains, rivers, trees, and all sorts of animals. It was beautiful.

"Let's go." Lincoln's voice drew him out of his trance and he turned to the door. As soon as he opened it Kane was standing there. He nearly attacked him before recognition dawned.

“What’s going on?”

“We came to get some things for Octavia.”

“She’s alive then?”

“Yes. She was tortured, but Lexa’s people took back Ton DC. They’ll kill the leader of the River People soon.”

“Let me come with you.” Bellamy shook his head.

“You’re needed here as long as Clarke and Abby are away.” The previous Chancellor inclined his head slightly, though he didn’t look completely convinced.

“Keep in touch.” Lincoln pushed past both of them and started walking briskly in the direction he had come.

It didn’t take long to get back to the circle of tents. Lincoln pushed through the opening to find Clarke pressing a final bandage to Octavia’s skin.

“I don’t want to move her home for another day, it’s too far,” Abby said. Lincoln set his bag on the ground and dressed her quickly, gently, laying her back on the table and lifting her head up to pour some liquid down her throat. She coughed and opened her eyes almost immediately, leaning against him.

“Lincoln.” He nodded and leaned his forehead against hers before kissing her gently.

“Your brother wants to see you.” She nodded against his neck and Clarke pushed open the flap. Bellamy rushed in.

“Can I hug you?” He looked at Abby. “Can I hug her?”

“Be gentle.” Lincoln stepped back and Bellamy pulled his sister in for a hug, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

“I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“Bell, I can’t breathe.” He pulled away, looking horrified.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” She nodded and he pulled her in, this time careful not to squeeze too tight or touch the worst of her injuries.

“I’m okay, Bell. I’m okay.”

**  
***


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Lincoln and Bellamy emerged from the tent some while later, after Octavia had sunk into a deep sleep. Clarke looked exhausted, with circles under her eyes that hadn’t been there earlier. There were still specks of crusted blood on her arms that she had missed when washing up.

“She’s asleep,” Bellamy said unnecessarily. They wouldn’t have left her otherwise. Abby crossed her arms over her chest.

“Lexa is requesting your presence. They’re over at the center of the encampment.” Frowning, the two men began the short walk to where Lexa’s tent stood taller than the rest, surrounded by tents on all sides.

“Jarlik,” Lincoln muttered, not making eye contact or breaking stride.

“That bitch who tortured my sister? Why the hell is she still alive?” The Grounder shot him a look.

“The Commander wishes to question Jarlik. To know for what purpose has she turned against us.” Bellamy ground his teeth. He had hoped she had died a slow and painful death, but as they turned the corner he found the woman tied to a tree. Lexa and two hulking bodyguards were examining her with disdain. Indra held a blade to the woman’s face and was drawing it slowly across her cheek.

“Lincoln.” Lexa raised an eyebrow, her expression showing little emotion. “The prisoner is to remain alive until we have extracted all useful information,” she added, seeing the tensing of his jaw. She did care for Octavia, but she cared more for the safety of her people. Revenge was not her priority. Heda whirled around to face Jarlik, who was grimacing with a mouth of bloody teeth. She might have been an attractive lady at some point, but anger had twisted her features.

“Why do you betray me?” Lexa asked coldly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Clarke appear through the trees, looking weary. She was followed by her mother, who looked ready to catch her in case she fell.

“Go to hell,” Jarlik spat in a rather un-Grounderlike way. Indra lurched forward but Lexa rested a hand on her second’s shoulder.

“Don’t,” she said quietly. The soldier’s eyes flashed angrily but she took a step back. Her hand remained on the hilt of her sword. Lexa was preparing to repeat her question when Clarke stumbled. She was at the blonde’s side in an instant, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“You must rest.”

“I need to know what’s going on,” she moaned as Lexa half dragged half carried her into the tent. “I need to make sure Octavia is--”

“Octavia will live.” She lowered Clarke onto the furs she used as a bed.

“So will I,” she muttered, pushing away the blanket Lexa tried to pull over her.

“You have done well today,” the Commander of the Grounders said quietly, stroking a hand through the Skyperson’s hair. “You have saved a life, one invaluable to me.” The blanket was laid over her without complaint this time. “But in saving her you have exhausted your energy. You can not be rational if you are delusional.”

“Rest is for the weak,” Clarke murmured, rubbing her eyes blearily in a vain attempt to stay awake. Lexa leaned over her and kissed her gently, pushing her head back against the pillows as she did so.

“Rest is for the wise, Clarke,” she murmured.

                                                *

Raven stomped over to Wick, who was tinkering with a small device she didn’t recognize.

“What’s the point of leaving me to sort out their mess if they aren’t even going to keep me in the loop?” She fumed. He swiftly hid the small metal object inside his pocket. She was immediately suspicious.

“What’s that?”

“What’s what?” He said innocently, shrugging his shoulder. “This table? It’s steel. That stool? Wood, though for the life of me I couldn’t tell you what kind.”

“Shut up, smartass. I mean that thing you were just holding.”

“What’s this about not keeping you informed?” She knew he was just trying to distract her, but she was still furious.

“So Kane just came back and told me that they got Octavia, who was TORTURED, from the Grounders.”

“And this is...bad news?”

“They left in the middle of the night and told me to keep a handle on things, and they talk to Kane?”

“Maybe he was just the one there at the time?” He suggested tentatively. When she got into an angry mood it was sometimes better to just agree with everything she said. Her grudges led to fights and no sex. She said nothing. “Maybe that’s not what you’re so upset about…” he said cautiously, trying to read her expression. “What’s going on?”

“Clarke.”

“What?” He gaped. “Is she okay? They found her?”

“They didn’t find her, she’s been in the Capital with Lexa this whole time.”

“She…”

“I thought she had died!” Raven exploded, throwing up her hands in frustration. “She couldn’t have sent a note, just a friendly ‘hey I’m alive’ type of thing? This whole time she’s been sitting comfortably in Lexa’s Grounder mansion.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Nyko,” she said simply. “After Kane came back I went out into the forest and ran into him almost immediately. He told me what’s going on and sent me home.”

“I’m sorry Clarke didn’t tell you she was alive.” He paused. “But do you think there might have been a reason for it? Maybe she wasn’t ready. After all she...killed those people. Not just her, but…” the silence lingered. “Maybe she needed some time to cope and a person to cope with.” At the angry expression on his girlfriend’s face, he knew she wasn’t ready to consider the situation reasonably yet. “Or maybe she’s just a horrible person.” Raven grabbed his collar and pulled his lips down to meet hers fiercely, her body pressing against his. He reacted immediately, his hands moving to her waist. After a moment he lifted her onto the counter, knocking a socket wrench and the schematics for an electricity grid onto the floor. Neither of them cared. They were too busy tearing each others clothes off to mind sweeping a pile of tiny screws onto the floor as Wick lowered her onto the table, and they didn’t seem to notice three pieces of round-stock roll into a corner as he joined her.

                                             *

Lexa didn’t rejoin the odd scene outside her tent until she was sure Clarke was fast asleep. No one had moved much in her absence, except for Abby, who had taken a seat with her head resting against the trunk of a large oak tree. The Commander’s eyes fell once again on her prisoner.

“Why have you betrayed me.” Jarlik leered.

“Answer her,” Indra spat, but Lexa raised a hand to stop her.

“You surely couldn’t believe your army would be able to hold Ton DC against my forces…” she said slowly, moving closer to the Grounder. “You must have known it was a lost cause.”

“Because your army is so admirable,” Jarlik spat.

“Because my soldiers are the best,” Lexa said without pause. “And they far outrank yours in numbers.” Jarlik looked as if she wanted to say something, but the muscles in her jaw tightened and she held her tongue. Lexa pulled a knife nimbly from its sheath and dragged it across Jarlik’s arm.

“I will make you talk,” she hissed. “And you will feel pain.” The blade slashed against her chest. “And you will die. Tell me what I wish to know.”

“My army is small, but they are loyal. They will do whatever I say. Even fight a battle they could never win.”

“Why.”

“Some must be sacrificed for the greater good, Heda.” The last word was dripping with disdain.

“What?” Confusion flitted across Lexa’s often impassive face. Jarlik made eye contact.

“While you were so busy coming to the rescue of your Skypeople friends,” she drawled. “You forgot to keep an eye on your Capital,” Lexa’s eyes widened. “Your majesty,” Jarlik snarled.

*****


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for wait!

CHAPTER 8

Lexa sent her army minus four guards towards Ton DC, with orders to follow Indra. Clarke was woken by all the noise and came outside, where the situation was quickly explained. Her eyes widened as she exchanged a glance with her lover. The leader paced in front of Jarlik, who was still kneeling on the ground.

“Tell me what you know.”

“It won’t do you any good,” the other woman grinned.

“Tell me.”

“No.” Lexa’s fist connected with her face with a crack and blood ran down her lips. She knelt in front of her captive.

“You tell me and I kill you quickly.” The prisoner’s eyes darted between Heda and Clarke, who stood with her arms crossed, a cold expression on her face.

“I would do it if I were you,” the blonde muttered. “Because, well,” she looked up at Lincoln. “You tortured the woman he loves.” Her gaze flicked to Bellamy. “The woman he loves.” Her blue eyes met those of the woman kneeling. “And they will leap at the opportunity to make every last minute of your life a living hell.”

“You are growing weak,” Jarlik muttered, spitting out blood and looking pointedly at the blonde woman. “The Skypeople have made you...vulnerable. And in that, we are vulnerable.” She bared her teeth, which were covered in blood. “You are a disgrace to our kind.”

“What do you know,” Lexa said, once again stiff and expressionless.

“We decided to take matters into our own hands. The Capital belongs to us now.”

“What does that get you?” Clarke asked.

“There are many people living there. Men, women and children. The warriors Heda grew with. She will turn herself over to us…” Jarlik grinned. “Or we will kill them all.”

“Liar,” Lexa spat, slashing her across the stomach with the knife.

“You would kill your own people?” Bellamy asked, disgusted.

“For the survival of our race? Yes.”

“You’re surviving just fine.”

“The sky people bring nothing but bad luck! If you let them, they will become the Mountain Men. They will kill us.”

“They won’t,” Clarke muttered under her breath.

“The treaty is buying time for them to plan an attack. Even now they must be gathering arms to attack our cities. To kill our children and take our weapons. They cannot be trusted, Heda.”

“You know nothing of the Skypeople.”

“Yes?” She sneered. “You have been blinded by affection…” she looked at Clarke again. “She is concealing the true nature of these people. They are beasts.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The blonde made to move forwards but Lexa put out a restraining arm.

“Do not talk about her in this way,” she hissed darkly.

“You see? You protect her. She will kill you.”

“They can be trusted. They have given their word.”

“You are too far gone, lost in...love,” she growled. “That is why you must die in order for our people to see the truth.”

“They believe as I do, that the Skaikru mean no harm. We are allies.”

“They believe YOU. Given their own opportunity to speak, perhaps they would not be so trusting.”

“My men have worked together with the Skypeople.”

“Under orders. Disobey and die? Of course they followed your orders.”

“Enough!” Lexa yelled, losing her impassivity once again.

“Every day you cower here, one of your people will die.”

“And if I give myself up?”

“You will die in disgrace.” Lexa nodded to Lincoln, who moved forwards, carrying one of Octavia’s swords.

“You die in disgrace,” Lexa spat, turning and striding away as Lincoln swung the blade through the air and a head rolled away into the bushes.

“Lexa,” Clarke murmured, catching up to the dark haired woman and resting a hand on her shoulder. “You do not truly believe her lies?”

“I cannot let my people die for me.”

“If you turn yourself in, they will kill you, Lexa. And then they will kill my people.”

“I cannot let my people die,” she repeated. “But I cannot let you die either.” She raised her head to look into Clarke’s eyes. “My love stops a choice that should be easy.”

“Don’t give up,” Clarke said firmly. “You can win.”

“If what she says rings true, the other nations have risen against me.”

“You don’t know that all of them have. Besides, you have the largest army.”

“Not against all of them combined.”

“The Skypeople will fight with you. I will make sure of it.” Lexa nodded, looking far too tired for someone so young.

“I only hope I devise a plan before we reach the Capital.” Clarke nodded.

“You will.”

“I hope.”

“How can I help?” She said softly. Lexa responded by kissing her, one hand on her forearm and the other on her hip. Clarke leaned into her, savouring the fresh smell of polished metal and new rain that lingered between them, and the feel of Lexa’s mouth on her own. It was odd. Her lips were so soft, like velvet or the slick rocks under a waterfall. But the kiss was hard, fierce and passionate, with the power of a hundred horses and a hunger for more. The previous leader of the Skypeople pulled her closer. Somewhere between now and forever, the kiss turned into a hug. Lexa’s head was resting on her shoulder and the woman’s thin arms were wrapped so tightly around her that she feared she might not be able to breathe.

“Thank you.” Lexa released her and stroked a hand over Clarke’s soft cheek. “I will fight for you.”

“And I you.” They broke apart, Clarke heading towards Bellamy and Camp Jaha, and Lexa to her tent to pack and prepare to leave.

                                          ***

Octavia opened her eyes. She was warm and swaddled in blankets. She rolled onto her side and saw that she way lying in the bed in her and Lincoln’s home.

“Lincoln.” He looked up from beside the fire and stood, moving over to her side and kneeling next to her.

“Octavia.”

“It hurts,” she murmured softly. He leaned his forehead against hers.

“I know. Here. Drink.” He raised a clay mug to her lips and poured hot tea down her throat. It smelled like sage and mint and tasted much better than the other drinks.

“Home?” He nodded and she scooted over, making room for him to lie down. He pulled her head against his chest and stroked a hand through her hair. “Where’s...what’s going on?” She peered up at him through her lashes. All she really wanted to do was lie naked in bed with him for hours, but she couldn’t help but worry about her friends.

“They are gathering. The nations have rebelled against Heda’s rule and taken the Capital. The Skypeople will fight with her army.”

“If she loses we’ll all die.” He nodded. “Why aren’t you with them?” A shadow of confusion flickered across his face.

“I will not leave you.”

“Who says I’m not coming?” She said stubbornly.

“You cannot fight, Octavia. Even a good warrior knows when she needs to heal.”

“You can fight.” He moved his hand to run gently down her arms, over the long row of stitches. She could tell that it had been plaguing him, choosing between her and sitting out on a war.

“No, Octavia,” he said softly, his expression melting. “I will remain behind. To guard those in Camp Jaha who cannot fight. The children.” A flicker of a smile crossed her face. She didn’t want him to go off to war. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. But Lincoln was just the type of man who would pace the gate all night to make the people feel more secure. “Bellamy is going.” She bit her lip and he kissed her forehead. “Your brother is strong, and Clarke will protect him. He told me I had to stay and take care of you.” He gave one of his rare smiles.

“Who is going?”

“Many parents volunteered so more of the guard could remain to protect their young. Many of your friends. Kane said Wick or Raven had to remain because they are the only ones who can operate the technology if they don’t return. They’re arguing over who goes.”

“Monty and Jasper?”

“I am going to the meeting tonight. I will bring you.”

“Good.” She nodded and pressed a kiss to his bare chest, then his neck.

“Octavia…” he said slowly, unsure.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, continuing to plant kisses all over his chest.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” She kissed him fiercely until he rolled over on top of her. “Ain, [Mine]” she muttered, wrapping an arm around his neck as he bent to kiss her neck.

“Yun, [Yours]” he whispered against her skin.

**  
*****


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Please read and review!

CHAPTER 9

The gates swung open and Octavia and Lincoln entered. She was limping and leaning on him heavily, but had refused his offer to carry her. The others looked up when they entered. People were sitting at the tables, watching as Kane waved his arms around. The man paused when they entered.

“Octavia!” Jasper and Monty leapt from their seats and converged on the two. They stopped short when they got a closer look at her. The sun hadn’t set yet, and the electric grid was up and running, casting a warm glow over Camp Jaha. “Shit...You look like hell, come sit down.” Lincoln led her over to their table and she sat heavily, wincing. Monty pressed a mug into her hands and she drank gratefully. It was strong, and exactly what she needed. “He’s just finished,” Jasper said in an undertone, nodding in Kane’s direction.

“Are you going?”

“Yes,” he said solemnly.

“Monty?” The other man shook his head.

“Kane wants me to stay behind. I have an, uh, unusual talent for making explosives. If it comes down to protecting Camp Jaha, he wants me here.”

“You both need to take care of yourselves. This war is dangerous.”

“Look who’s talking, you nearly got killed.” Lincoln made a noise of displeasure but she reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Which is exactly why you need to be careful. These guys will kill you.” She made eye contact with Jasper. “Don’t be a hero.” He gulped, glancing to where Kane was talking quietly with a group of others. He had been in fights before, of course, but never something that felt so unreal. A real war, with armies and thousands of troops. This wasn’t Grounder versus Skypeople it was one nation versus another. And he wasn’t quite sure he was on the winning team.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, grinning nervously. “What’s a little war to ol’ Jasper, eh? I think I’ve got the fighting thing down.” One of the girls at a nearby table turned and smiled at him. Octavia rolled her eyes and leaned her head against Lincoln’s shoulder. He was warm.

“Octavia.” She looked up to see the previous Chancellor standing before her, his hands in his pockets. “I’m glad to see you back.”

“Thanks,” she muttered. She had never been that friendly with Kane, or any of the officials for that matter. No matter what, she still saw him as someone who would arrest her just for being alive. Kane could feel that resentment, and despite his attempts to befriend her Octavia remained detached.

“And you will be remaining?” He addressed Lincoln now, having given up on any hope of a conversation with Octavia.

“Yes.”

“I’d like you to come to the meeting tomorrow morning. Everyone remaining behind will be there.”

“We’ll need a place to stay,” Octavia interjected. “Inside the camp.”

“Of course. Abby thinks you should stay in the med bay. The beds there are comfortable and if all goes well, the two of you will have the place to yourselves. Not to mention medical supplies will be close at hand in case of emergency.”

“Thank you,” Lincoln said before she could complain. She didn’t want to be stuck in a room full of bandages, but Lincoln would probably feel more secure knowing he had supplies nearby. Not to mention he would rather sleep outside than have to share a room with anyone but Octavia.

“Has Octavia taught you how to use a gun?”

“I have a bow and arrows.”

“That’s the one advantage we have, technology. If you fight bows with bows it won’t work.” Lincoln raised an eyebrow.

“I’m better.”

“I’m sure you are. But I can’t trust the lives of my people on that gamble.”

“I know how to shoot.” It was Octavia’s turn to cut in before Lincoln could say something he might regret.

“You’re injured.”

“I won’t be any better off sitting on a bed inside than on a chair outside.” Kane ran his fingers through his hair, as if considering her proposition. In truth, he didn’t really have a choice. Octavia would do what she wanted whether or not he approved.

“Alright. Will you show Lincoln how to shoot as well? There’s a box of blanks collected somewhere, for practice.” She nodded. “Alright, well it’s good to see you. We’ll talk more in the morning.” Kane looked like he had something else to say, but seemed to decide it was better not to. As he left, Raven approached. She was dragging Wick with her, and he looked less than happy.

“She thinks I should stay,” he said. The two of them sat down at the table between Monty and Jasper.

“They’ll need my skills more on the field.”

“Who the hell says so?”

“Wick, you design bombs but I’m the one who actually makes them.”

“I can make them,” he said defensively.

“Not as fast as I can.” She shoved his shoulder. “C’mon, you’re secretly glad that you don’t have to go. War terrifies you.”

“And you’re not scared at all?” He asked mockingly. Lincoln looked at Octavia imploringly, as if begging her to leave. He hated small talk and bantering, as he was a man of few words. She smiled sweetly at him and kissed his neck, turning to Raven and Wick.

“If it helps at all, I think she should go too.”

“That doesn’t, actually,” he said, scowling. “C’mon, I’m smarter than her!”

“She’s been on the ground longer, she’s got more experience with these people.”

“Oh, you’re not going to play that card,” he groaned. “I understand what’s going on perfectly.”

“Do you?” Lincoln said quietly, the usual brooding expression back on his face.

“I mean, I understand enough,” Wick said nervously. “Enough to build a bomb and throw it at people, anyway.” Lincoln sighed and leaned back further in his seat. One hand was resting lightly on Octavia’s hip, the other on his lap.

“My people would tear you apart. Raven is strong.” Wick opened his mouth to argue, but shut it with a shove from the dark haired woman beside him. Raven, along with knowing more about the Grounders, knew more about Lincoln. Enough to know that arguing with him was a lost cause and a waste of breath.

“How are you doing?” Raven said sincerely, leaning over Wick to get a good look at Octavia’s face. “You must be in a lot of pain.”

“It’s fine,” she said in reply.

“Right. You look worse than I felt when I got shot in the back.” Octavia nodded tiredly.

“Thanks for the concern.” Raven nodded and stood up, Wick copying her.

“I’m gonna go see what the others are talking about.” As the two of them made their way off, Lincoln decided it was time to get Octavia to bed. She was alreading exhausted, though she wouldn’t admit it.

“Octavia.” He rose to his feet and she followed, only for him to bend down and pick her up. She protested the whole way to the gate, but once the darkness surrounded them she fell silent and rested her head against his chest, listening to his heart beating.

“Your friends are going to war.”

“I know.” She let out a long sigh. Lincoln wove his way between the trees, his footfalls light. He knew the way by heart, knew each tree and could sense them before him in the dark. “I’m scared.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” he promised, opening the door to their home and carrying her inside. He closed the door quickly to avoid letting in the chill air, and set her down gently on the bed.

“That’s not what I’m scared about.” He lit a few candles and poked at the fire that was almost extinguished.

“Your friends.”

“All of us.” He threw a few leaves and pieces of wood onto the coals and they caught fire immediately. “Are we going to win?” He turned to look at her. She was leaning up on her elbow, looking down at him.

“Win is a strong word,” he murmured, looking back at the flames. “People will die. Many people.” She sighed and bit her lip, laying back. “Whose people, I do not know. Only that there will be no victory.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He rose, his tall figure outlined against the warm glow of the growing fire. Lincoln moved over and laid down next to her, pulling her closer.

“This war will not end with death. It would take many years for one side to win. If it is to end soon, there must be peace.”

“Neither of the sides are willing to talk. Lexa won’t. They’ve committed treason, she’s not interested in reasoning with them.”

“I know.”

“So if we can’t make a deal, we’re just going to keep fighting until one side is completely wiped out?”

“We are the smaller nation. It may take years, but they will eventually slaughter every last one of us.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be consoling me?”

“You are no child. I do not lie to you.” Octavia laid one of her arms over him and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I love you, Lincoln.”

“I love you more than you can imagine,” he said softly, in a rare display of emotion. “You are my world, Octavia.” The young woman leaned up and pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly.

“I’m not ready to die.” He sat up, bringing her up with him.

“You will not die. No matter what happens, I will not let you die.”

“Then you can’t die either,” she said. “I need you.” Lincoln stood, untangling himself from her embrace. She swung her legs out of bed, her toes gracing the floorboards. He moved across the room and opened a drawer, removing something before returning back to her.

“I need you too. Octavia.” He knelt down on the floor in front of her, so they they were almost at eye level. “You make me better.” He set the item he had taken from the drawer on the floor, and reached into his pocket. The fire was strong enough now that she could see what he was holding; a ring.

“Lincoln?”

“Your people wear rings as marriage.” He took her left hand in his. He had seen the wedding bands on the fingers of Skypeople, but they had been ugly. He had been collecting things for years, and had found the ring only a few months before he met Octavia. It was gold with diamonds set into it. the jewels were not large enough to get in the way when fighting, but large enough to be noticeable. “You are right to be afraid of death. Be afraid with me?” He looked up at her, and their gazes met. She didn’t have to say anything as he slipped the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit. She rested her hands on his neck and pulled his lips to hers, kissing him fiercely. When she drew back, their foreheads were resting against each other.

“You said rings are my people’s marriage.” He nodded. “I want yours too.” He gave her one if his rare smiles and picked the box off the floor where he had set it, offering it to her. Octavia removed the lid. Inside was a glass bottle full of dark liquid, a small pouch, and another box. She took the smaller box gingerly and opened it. It contained a large golden band ring, which Lincoln took and slid onto his finger. Also inside the box was a gold chain with a small oval pendant. The stone was moonstone, smooth and glinting in the firelight. “It’s beautiful.” Lincoln took the necklace from her and she held her hair up as he clasped it around her neck. The stone fell right at her clavicular notch.

“What is this?” She motioned to the the other contents of the box.

“The necklace is part of the bond. The other is ink.” He motioned to the tattoos on his neck. “But it is painful. It can wait until you are better.”

“No, no I want to do it now.” He sighed and looked up at her. “We could die tomorrow. I want to die yours.” He kissed her softly and nodded. “What is the tattoo?”

“The tattoo is to show that you are mine, it is whatever I make of it. You choose what to mark me with, to show that I am yours.” Octavia smiled and stroked his cheek gently before pulling her shirt and pants off. She laid back on the bed, her hair a dark pool around her face.

“I am yours.”

**  
***


	10. Note

Hey guys, I'm so sorry it's been so long since posting! It was holiday month and now it's exam months! I PROMISE to post a fantastic chapter as soon as my midterms are over!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I always have a hard time continuing my fanfics when the show restarts and diverges. I'll be better in the future, promise! As always I love to hear your thoughts, suggestions, everything.

CHAPTER 10

 

Octavia woke up later than Lincoln. In fact, he had managed to attend the morning meeting, go for a quick hunt and return before she even stirred. 

“Morning,” she murmured, pulling the soft fur blankets closer. 

“I have soup.” She slid out of bed to sit on the floor and he joined her, handing over a small wooden bowl of broth. 

“Let me see it.” He smiled and held out his arm for her to examine. Lincoln had gone traditional with his tattoo on her, and it resembled his own, with a long intricate tendril from the base of her spine to the nape of her neck. The tattoos around her biceps and along her hip were identical to Lincoln’s, but instead of the thick tattoos he had on his chest, she had a tattoo that started on her left shoulder blade, snaked around to her shoulder and continued along in a plain line to trace her left collarbone. She thought the swirls and patterns it had created on her shoulder and shoulder blade seemed familiar, and Octavia had discovered that one of his drawings of an old ruin had the same pattern. 

Octavia wasn’t nearly as much of an artist as Lincoln, so she decided to go with something simple. On the inside of his forearm she had tattooed a shooting star, because she had fallen from the sky. He had helped her with it, so when Octavia took his arm the next morning she was satisfied with the mark she had left on him. “I love you,” she said. He pressed a kiss to her neck. The skin of the tattoo was still tender, so he traced it very lightly with his finger.

“I like it.” He said.

“Now everyone will know that I am yours…” she rested her hand on his new tattoo. “And that you are mine.” He inclined his head. “So we’re married now.”

“Yes.”

“What does that mean, for us?” He placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“What do you mean?”

“Is there anything special married couples are supposed to do?”

“Marriage is a bond. It ties us together.”

“Wasn’t that already true?”

“Now it is permanent,” her murmured.

“What happens if I leave you?” She asked sarcastically, leaning against him.

“You won’t.” She scoffed at that, but simply curled into his side. 

“Lincoln, do you want children?” She looked up at him. He stroked a hand through her hair, twirling the strands between his fingers. 

“What do you think?”

“About children?” He nodded. “I don’t know. I remember being a child, and I hated it...I mean, I know it would be different, but that’s all I think about. Living cramped up beneath the floor, eating scraps…” She glanced at the bowl of soup that was going cold as she spoke. “I was miserable.” 

“I know.”

“I mean, I guess what I’m saying is...when they found me and locked me up on the base, they put a device in. Because there were already too many people, and they didn’t want any more women getting pregnant. Which seems like a waste, because they kept me locked in that isolation room all the time.” He rubbed her back gently. “It would have to come out, if you wanted kids.” 

“I want you, Octavia.” She smiled. 

“Yeah? Are you sure I’m enough?” He took her face in his hands and tilted it up, running his fingers over her jaw.

“Octavia, you are a woman, but you are still young.”

“Don’t Grounder women marry and have children young?”

“Yes. But marriage does not mean one takes all the values of the other. You are….” he rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “A beautiful, strong warrior. You are not like the others, you fight. Could you give that up?”

“No.” She said.

“Until you can tell me truthfully that you want to give up fighting until a child is born and does not require your milk--you aren’t ready. And if you aren’t, neither am I. “ She rested her forehead against his.

“You know how much I love you?” He smiled. 

“I know.” He kissed her gently. “You look beautiful.”

“I’m covered in bandages.”

“And yet you smile. That strength speaks more than a body ever could.” He rose slowly to his feet, stretching. “Eat your soup, we need to get back to the city soon, before the others leave.” She raised the ladle to her lips and sipped at it. Lincoln found her hairbrush and knelt behind her, brushing until her dark hair shone. He separated it into several parts and started braiding cornrows into the sides of her hair, like she had worn it for quite some time. His fingers were nimble, as he had been taught at a young age how to do a woman’s hair. He liked that she had taken to so many of the things his people valued, while still pursuing her own family. 

“I’ll have scars,” she ran her fingers over a few stitches.

“Every good warrior does.” She glanced back to grin at him, but he simply turned her head back to the front so he could continue. “It is tradition for the husband to braid the hair,” he said suddenly.

“Really? I thought you were all about strength.”

“In the battlefield. But at home, in one’s own life, the wife is the queen. She is royal, she is strong. She is the warrior.”

“Even if I’m a warrior out there too?”

“Especially then.” He stroked his fingers through her hair as he finished the braids. “You are my queen, Octavia.” She craned her neck to kiss him and then rose to her feet.

“I should get dressed.” He took a step to the side to block the dresser and she arched an eyebrow at him. “I thought we were in a hurry?”

“Not that much of one.” She chuckled softly and pressed against him to plant a kiss on his lips. His hands slid to her thighs and he hoisted her up to wrap her legs around his hips. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her face into his shoulder. He was exceedingly gentle with her, making no movement that hurt any of her various injuries. It was a strange change from the usual, where it was almost a battle and no one escaped unbruised. It was exhilarating, just like a fight. As if sensing her thoughts he walked her forward until her back pressed against the wall. “You’ll be better soon,” he murmured against her ear. “Until then you are just my wife, my queen, fragile.”

“And when I’m better?”

“You’ll be fueled by the knowledge that I just called you fragile,” he smirked. She giggled and pulled his lips against hers, sinking into the warmth of him.

 

                                                 *

“Octavia!” Bellamy jogged over. “Can I hug you?” She rolled her eyes and he pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. “You scared me there, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” she mumbled.

“I know. I just like making you angry,” he grinned and she punched him lightly in the shoulder. “What’s that?” He took her hand and examined the tattoo there. She lifted her hair so he could see the one on her neck. She was wearing her long sleeved jacket, so the rest of the mark was hidden. “What’s this necklace?” He tapped it.

“It’s moonstone. Because I came from the sky.”

“Lincoln got….” his eyes fell on the ring. “Octavia….”

“What, Bellamy?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “I love him, he loves me, and the world is going to shit.”

“I was going to say, that ring is just as beautiful as Lincoln said it would be.” A look of confusion spread across her features. 

“What?”

“I’m your only living family. He asked me for your hand in marriage.”

“He--”

“Before you get all indignant, he made it very clear that he would marry you with or without my blessing.” He grinned and pulled her in for another hug. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

“I’m...surprised,” she said, as they pulled apart. 

“What? I like Lincoln.”

“But you’ve always been overprotective.” He placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Octavia, you don’t need protecting. If anything, you’re better prepared to live in this world than I am. I want you to have someone like Lincoln in your corner. He makes you happy, and that makes me happy.” He dug around in his pocket and produced a silver band ring. “This was mom’s. It won’t fit you and I was going to work on that, but then this whole war got in the way...well, take it.” He held it out. “We’ll make it fit later.” She took the ring and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. 

“Thank you, Bell.”

“Just don’t talk to me about sex, okay?”

“I don’t need to.” She pulled away.

“Ugh, O! If he couldn’t kill me so easily I would be obligated to punch him.”

“I’m happy, Bell, he makes me happy.”

“I know.” He sighed. “You stay safe, and keep these guys safe if you can.”

“Stay safe,” she murmured. As Bellamy walked off, Octavia unclasped her necklace and slid the ring onto it before putting it back on. She took a deep breath, glanced up at the sky, and kept walking. She didn’t look back. If she had, Octavia might have seen Bellamy turn to watch her walk away, or the smile that lit up his features when she reached Lincoln and he spun her around before kissing her. But she didn’t look back, and Bellamy soon turned back to the task at hand. War.


End file.
